


The Ronin and The Beast

by VampireHydeFTW



Category: BUCK-TICK, X JAPAN
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M, Samurai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 21:51:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13866735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireHydeFTW/pseuds/VampireHydeFTW
Summary: They said he was The Devil but all Yoshiki saw when he looked at him was a beautiful man. As a captured man, perhaps he should fear the warlord, though it soon came apparent he wasn't the man the warlord had been after. Perhaps though, he could be the man the warlord wanted?





	The Ronin and The Beast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Color_me_blue3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Color_me_blue3/gifts).



> This story was written as a birthday gift for Color_me_blue3.

                They said he was the devil, a cruel and malicious warlord intent on taking all of Japan for himself. If rumours were true, he had claimed his throne by eliminating the infant son of the brother he had personally killed. Others said that he was a vampire, drinking the blood of his enemies and playing mind games on those around him so that they would remain loyal. Yet others said he didn’t even exist, that he was entirely fictional, meant to scare the enemies of the house. Perhaps even, he was a puppet, filled with the power of demons?

                As Yoshiki looked upon him, he saw only a beautiful man, perhaps a little paler than most but that just seemed to add to the intrigue. He didn’t look anything like what he had expect, he wasn’t sure if that was a relief or a cause for concern. Had he been what he expected, at least he would have an idea how to deal with him.

                “You don’t look particularly scared,” The dark-haired man commented, “I would have hoped for fear from my enemies. What’s the matter, Hayato, do you not value life?”

                “I take it your referring to Hayato Yoshiki?” Yoshiki commented, frequently being mistaken for the samurai. “I’m sure he would be scared of you, many are.”

                “You’re not Hayato?” The warlord commented, “You expect me to believe that? I have a reliable source that reported straight to me that you were Yoshiki.”

                “Hayashi Yoshiki, it’s a common mistake,” Yoshiki explained. “I’m just a ronin, I care little for their cause but they paid well.”

                “Ronin,” The warlord repeated, “Just a warrior without a true master? Perhaps you are as you say, I did think you were taller than I expected. What a frustrating waste of time!  Now what I meant to do with you?”

                “Perhaps you could offer to pay me?” Yoshiki suggested, though from the other’s expression it was clear he wouldn’t be trusted.

                “I don’t respect those so quick to change sides,” The warlord declared. “Obviously I can’t let you go either and it would be a waste of resources to feed you in a jail cell. I only have one option, perhaps you should be scared?”

                “I’m thinking about it,” Yoshiki admitted, “I’ve heard many terrifying stories about you but I believe what I see. I haven’t seen you being cruel, so I tell myself that you’re not. Besides, I have skills I can offer that don’t involve my sword.”

                “You heard the rumour that I like men, I assume?” The warlord asked. “As a dead man, I feel safe in telling you that it’s more than true, but I have no need to pay those who warm my bed. Even a man as pretty as you.”

                “I’m a musician,” Yoshiki corrected, “And as I’m dead anyway, I confess that I’m the same way.”

                “A musician?” His captor repeated, “You must know me well, for that’s one of the few things you could have said to sway my mind. You better not be lying.”

                “I’m not lying,” Yoshiki promised as, much to his relief, his hands were untied.

                “You will play at dinner,” The warlord said, “Should my court be pleased, you will be fed and kept safe here.”

                “I have nothing to fear,” Yoshiki declared, bowing low, “Sakurai Atsushi, my music is yours.”

 

                Yoshiki had found it easy to impress the court, music was his true passion and he was an excellent player. As a child he had often been scolded for wasting time playing music, when it would be the sword that would save his life one day. How wrong his father had been, the sword had almost lost him his life, music had saved him. He even found that the pay was slightly higher than it had been as a warrior, once you factored in the gifts the court had started to shower him with. Many wanted to be in his favour, but he only had eyes for one man.

                It was several days since his capture, when he was given the opportunity to talk to the warlord again. Quite by chance, he found him alone in the courtyard. Sakurai didn’t see him approach, so he stood quietly for a good minute as he watched the feared man admiring the flowers. What kind of man was Sakurai? His touch was perfectly gentle, his rule firm but fair. In any other circumstances Yoshiki wouldn’t hesitate to refer to him as a good man. Why then did so many think of him as the devil?

                “You’re up late,” Yoshiki commented, making the warlord jump and turn around.

                “I could say the same for you,” Sakurai remarked. “Do you mean to question your lord?”

                “I have no lord or master,” Yoshiki reminded him, “But all the same, I meant no disrespect. I was merely making conversation.”

                “So you were,” Sakurai replied. “Really, I must thank you. First for bringing such wonderful music to my ears. It’s rare to find such talent, especially in these troubles times.”

                “Music is my true passion, I’m delighted that you’re so impressed.” Yoshiki responded, unable to keep the smile from his face. Sakurai didn’t give out compliments much, to receive such a comment was more than high praise.

                “It shows,” Sakurai answered, turning back to the flowers. “But there’s one other thing I must be thankful for, you never mocked my confession.”

                “Your confession?” Yoshiki repeated, “You mean about the companions you choose to keep? Why would I mock? I’m no different than you in that regard.”

                “You were telling the truth about that too? I couldn’t tell if you were teasing or not.” Sakurai replied, picking a flower and offering it to the other. “This flower is beautiful, it reminds me of your music and therefore you.”

                “If I take this flower, it will be as a token of your affection,” Yoshiki warned, smiling wider as the flower was placed firmly in his hand.

                “Then take it as such,” Sakurai replied. “I take back my previous remark about not wanting to pay you to join me in my bed. It’s starting to be something I might consider after all.”

                “It should never be something you need to consider,” Yoshiki answered, breaking the distance between them and placing his free hand on Sakurai’s hip. “A few more nights like this and I may find myself giving everything you want for free.”

                “Then tomorrow we will meet here again,” Sakurai ordered. “For I am a man who will persevere until I get what I want and with such an offer, only a fool would back down.”

                “You flatter me with your attention all over again,” Yoshiki complained and for the first time since he had met the other, Sakurai smiled.

 

                They met in the courtyard the next night, and the one after that, until the meetings became routine and they were all Yoshiki could think about. Was he falling in love with the devil? Perhaps he was under the same spell as the court, for not one man here seemed to fear or hate Sakurai. They always said that demons had silver tongues and to watch out for malicious intent. Perhaps Sakurai did have a silver tongue, but he saw no signs of malicious intent.

                That night Yoshiki found himself asking the question that had been on his mind since their very first meeting. He needed some answered and felt that it was time for Sakurai to give them. The right answer, would be enough for him to fully give his heart over to the man others referred to as The Beast.

                “Sakurai, why do people fear you?” Yoshiki asked, taking a sip of the warm sake that had been offered to him.

                “I’m a powerful warlord, intent on conquering Japan,” Sakurai answered, “By nature, people fear change.”

                “Yes, but plenty of warlords are trying to conquer Japan, not many have such horrifying stories associated with their name,” Yoshiki explained, “Why do people think of you as the devil?”

                “Maybe they think I look like one?” Sakurai suggested, taking a sip of his own sake. “But I’ve found rumours are usually started by those who know you best and want to damage your good name.”

                “I’m asking the wrong questions,” Yoshiki decided, “What I should ask first is: Why do you want to conquer Japan?”

                “This world is corrupt and full of war,” Sakurai answered, “So firstly I want to end the bloodshed, the only way I know how.”

                “And secondly?” Yoshiki prompted.

                “I’m egotistical enough to believe I can make this country a better place,” Sakurai answered. “Where our affections are not seen as perversion for a start and musicians are loved and admired as if they were the greatest of samurai. Artists too and actors, for they all share just as much beauty and joy.”

                “If you would allow it, I would fight for that future,” Yoshiki offered, “Not as ronin, but as samurai. I’m prepared to swear my loyalty to you, if you would accept it.”

                “I’d hate the thought of you on the battlefield once more,” Sakurai answered, “But maybe it’s a necessary evil? I’ll consider returning your sword, under those conditions.”

                “The quicker the war is over, the quicker you can build your world.” Yoshiki reassured him.

                “I don’t need for the war to be over, to strive for my happiness,” Sakurai declared, claiming Yoshiki’s lips against his own for the very first time. Startled Yoshiki allowed the kiss to happen, quickly returning the gentle affection.

                “Sakurai,” He began, as the other pulled back.

                “Call me Atsushi, if only when we’re alone,” The warlord ordered.

                “Atsushi,” Yoshiki corrected himself, savouring the name as it was spoken. “I still have so many questions.”

                “Can’t they wait?” Atsushi protested, and Yoshiki had to concede that they could. He was prepared for the second kiss, returning the affection as naturally as he breathed. Being with Atsushi just felt right.

 

                After that, kisses became part of their usual meetings, until some nights all they would do was embrace, whilst others they would talk with only the smallest of interruptions. By the end of the week Yoshiki had become the most loyal of Atsushi’s samurai warriors, just in time to join the resistant to the enemy’s surprise attack.

                It was on the battle field he met eyes with his former master, Hayato Yuuto, a cousin of the man he was often mistaken for. He knew the man well, and Yuuto recognised him in return. Could he fight this man? He was well aware of the little boy and girl that waited for the samurai back home.

                “I know you ronin aren’t loyal, but to join the enemy?” Yuuto demanded, holding his sword defensively but not making an advancement. “Maybe you’re just saving your own life? I heard The Beast skins his captives alive.”

                “He does no such thing,” Yoshiki answered, “Everything you’ve heard, well almost everything, is slander. I fight by his side, as any loyal samurai would.”

                “You swore your soul to The Beast!” Yuuto exclaimed, “I see now, you’ve been corrupted by wickedness and sin. It would be my pleasure to end the pain.”

                “Far from it,” Yoshiki answered, “I have merely gotten to know the man your men have been taught to despise.”

                “I will hear nothing more from you, demon!” Yuuto angrily declared, lunging at Yoshiki with his sword. The blond dodged quickly, a well trained swordsman thanks to his father’s influence, and quickly found himself locked in an evenly matched duel.

                Unable to gain the upper hand, Yoshiki continued to dodge and weave, not stopping until the cry of surrender filled the field of battle. He had no idea who was calling off the attack and looked over to see that it was Hayato’s men who were fleeing.

                Sudden pain radiated from his arm, and he saw where Yuuto’s sword had bent in a plate of armour. He let out a cry of anger, but Yuuto was already fleeing the battle and he didn’t have the resolve to chase after him. He had no idea if he could have finished the man off, but as he saw Atsushi watching him he realised it didn’t matter, he had proven his loyalty once and for all.

 

                Many men had been injured that day, so Yoshiki made no attempts to seek medical attention, he didn’t want to waste the doctors’ time. Instead he found a willing servant to help him remove the armour and bandage the wound. The young girl had just got off the broken plate when Atsushi made his appearance in Yoshiki’s room and ordered the girl away.

                It was the first time Atsushi had entered his room and he smiled nervously at the man. He was feeling a little light headed now and he didn’t believe it was from the wound. It was his presence, so handsome in his armour, so well presented despite the battle he had been fighting in. Atsushi was no coward, Yoshiki had seen him on the front lines.

                “Let me help you,” Atsushi ordered, carefully removing the leather armour that Yoshiki wore beneath the metal plates. Not one to disobey a direct order, Yoshiki smiled nervously over at the other before taking in the sight of the bruise. It looked worse than it felt and he could see that the warlord was concerned. “Or perhaps we should find a doctor?”

                “It’s not that bad,” Yoshiki reassured him. “Nothing feels broken.”

                “You will visit the doctor if it doesn’t begin to heal,” Atsushi ordered, picking up the bandage the girl had left on the bed and tending to the wound. His touch was gentle, so different to the way he had handled his weapon but very much the touch that Yoshiki was used too.

                “You fight like a demon, no wonder your enemies fear you.” Yoshiki remarked, as Atsushi finished off the bandages.

                “I fight with purpose, I believe in my cause,” Atsushi corrected. “Were you afraid?”

                “What man isn’t afraid on the battlefield?” Yoshiki questioned.

                “Of me,” Atsushi prompted.

                “Never,” Yoshiki answered, accepting his lord’s kiss and wrapping his good arm around the other. He knew no one else would have been given the lord’s personal attention and why he was special. “If you want me tonight, you can have me. You’ve already made me half-dressed.”

                “I have no choice but to agree to that suggestion,” Atsushi replied. “But first, help me remove my armour, or should I call for a servant?”

                “If I called another servant, you’d scare them away.” Yoshiki teased, getting up from the bed and carefully removing the lord’s armour piece by piece. Once done, he fetched some warm water and removed the leather armour Atsushi wore over his chest. It was a nice chest, he deduced, as he carefully washed away the sweat that had gathered there. He had nice arms too, even if they were coated with their enemy’s blood.

                He took his time cleaning his lord, leaving him in just his underwear as he pulled off his remaining clothes and allowed the other to do the same for him. Lust stirred within him and he knew Atsushi’s desire was no different, but still they made efforts to be presentable before lying together on the bed.

                The kisses they shared were as gentle as they always were, but they didn’t feel the same. Perhaps it was the knowledge of where this was leading, or the way their bond had grown on the battlefield. Whatever it was, it filled Yoshiki with excitement. He was Atsushi’s chosen one, there was no higher honour, not in his mind at least.

                Carefully Atsushi removed both of their underwear, both men admiring the other before Atsushi moved down the bed and wrapped his mouth around Yoshiki’s hard length. With a moan of pleasure, Yoshiki watched with delight as the other pleased him. Perhaps it was wrong to do it this way? Atsushi was his lord, but it was Atsushi’s choice to do this. He didn’t worry, pleasure was all that was on his mind.

                “Do you have any lubricant?” Atsushi requested, smiling as Yoshiki handed over exactly what he had asked for. “It’s just like you, to be so prepared.”

                “And it’s just like you, to need to think for days before making up your mind!” Yoshiki protested, not liking the way Atsushi had left him hard and waiting. With a smirk, knowing just what he was doing to the other man, Atsushi used the lubricant to stretch the other. He prepared him thoroughly, this act just as pleasurable as the last.

                “Now I must wait several days, to see if I want to continue,” Atsushi mocked, something about his tone alerted Yoshiki to a realisation, finally he understood.

                “This is why they call you the devil!” Yoshiki exclaimed, “You’re such a tease! How can you be so cruel?”

                “Cruel?” Atsushi asked, slipping his length into Yoshiki and making him moan in pleasure. “By now you should know, I’m no such thing!”

                “Prove it,” Yoshiki challenged and Atsushi did just that. He found himself moaning, crying out the other’s name and being taken with a gentle but steady rhythm. Without conscious thought, he wrapped his legs around Atsushi and pulled him closer, as if he feared that the other would try and separate their union.

                Yoshiki came with a cry of the other’s name, gasping and moaning on his bed as Atsushi quickly finished too. He’d never had sex like that before, was that what they referred to as making love? To think, he had experienced such joy from being with The Beast.

                “You’re deep in thought,” Atsushi teased, holding Yoshiki in his arms as they lay together in his bed. “Something wrong?”

                “Yes, I’ve been corrupted by a demon,” Yoshiki complained, “It’s the only explanation, for now I can only think about how much I want to be with you again!”

                “Well maybe, in a few days, I’ll decide if we can.” Atsushi teased, an empty threat as Yoshiki simply wasn’t going to allow him to wait so long.

                “Or maybe I’ll bring you down first,” Yoshiki threatened, giving Atsushi another kiss. “You know you can never trust a ronin, who knows when he may decide to change their minds.”

                “You’re not a ronin,” Atsushi answered, “From the day you were captured, you have been nothing but a loyal man.”

                “Well maybe I’ve found a reason to be?” Yoshiki suggested, “I can’t wait to see your dream fulfilled, only what would you do in the world you wish to create?”

                “That’s easy,” Atsushi answered, “I will sing. Maybe one day, I’ll even let you listen?”

                “That’s a promise,” Yoshiki replied with a smile. He knew he would get to hear the other sing soon enough, but being Atsushi, it would take a few more days.


End file.
